


No matter what or when

by iwasanartist



Category: DC's Legends of Tomorrow (TV)
Genre: Friendship, Gen, Psychic Bond, Trick or Treat: Trick
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-21
Updated: 2017-09-21
Packaged: 2019-01-03 19:32:26
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,824
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12153348
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/iwasanartist/pseuds/iwasanartist
Summary: Martin may know when Jefferson needs him, but he doesn't always know why.





	No matter what or when

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Muccamukk](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Muccamukk/gifts).



Martin had just settled into bed, pillows propped up behind him, a sparkling water on the nightstand and rare book he’d picked up during a quiet moment in the 1970s — his younger self would have been so jealous — when a deep sense of unease settled in the pit of his stomach.

Jefferson.

The telepathic bond he shared with the young man had taken some getting used to, and though he would be loath to admit it, there were times when he quite enjoyed it. When Jefferson felt overjoyed or excited for something new and different, the feeling of exuberance that washed over Martin warmed him to the bone and could lift any sour mood.

Of course, the opposite was true, too. When Jefferson was sad, Martin felt it. When he was in pain, Martin hurt. When he was afraid, Martin felt not only Jefferson’s fear but his own fear for him.

Since becoming half of Firestorm, he’d gotten better at filtering out some of the banal and mundane feelings. The mild frustration of a bolt that wouldn’t turn on the waverider, for instance, wasn’t the sort of thing that even registered for Martin anymore.

But this was no bolt. This was loneliness and fear and a despair Martin could barely fathom, and the weight of it forced him to his feet only to almost drop him to his knees if not for the table that miraculously held his weight.

Martin squashed the feelings deep within him and stood his full height, resolved to put one foot in front of the other. He didn’t know what was wrong, but he knew that Jefferson needed him.

Slowly, Martin made his way down the halls of the waverider. He wasn’t sure what made him keep his silence as he passed the grunting laughter and reluctant giggle of Rory and Miss Lance in the commissary or the flaring blue light of an acetylene torch as Raymond upgraded his suit in one of the work rooms, but he said nothing.

Soon he reached the corridor to Jefferson’s quarters in engineering. He was separate from the others after converting a storage closet into a bedroom. Something about the thrum of the engines helping him sleep. It was that very thrum that now reverberated in Martin’s skull like a weather siren. Images began to flash in his mind. Posters of classic muscle cars on the wall. A model of an airplane on a shelf. Martin stopped and leaned heavily against the wall, pinching the bridge of his nose and squeezing his eyes shut until the images he couldn’t explain disappeared. He shook his head once, then twice and when his world was almost normal, just that dull ache in his gut, he continued to Jefferson’s door and grasped the handle.

Nothing happened.

“Jefferson!” he said, rapping his knuckles against the door. “Jefferson, are you all right?”

There was no response.

Martin grabbed the handle again and pushed, letting his shoulder pound hard into the cold metal before giving up.

“Gideon,” he said to the air, “unlock this door.”

“I’m afraid I can’t do that, Professor Stein.”

“What do you mean ‘you can’t do that’?” Martin said. “It’s an electronic lock tied into the ship’s system, and you’re the ship’s computer!” Panic was setting in, and Martin couldn’t tell if it was his own or Jefferson’s.

“Since Captain Lance initiated a privacy protocol, my ability to open locked doors between the hours of 8 p.m. and 8 a.m. is limited to emergencies.”

“Well, what do you think this is?!”

Gideon was silent for a moment before speaking again.

“My systems detect nothing out of the ordinary, Professor,” the A.I. said, but Martin lost the last several words as a blinding light filled his mind’s eye.

“Gideon, there is some sort of anomaly in Jefferson’s room, and I need you to open this door at once!”

“I’m sorry, professor, but I can’t do that.”

Martin slumped against the wall, unable to see, barely able to think. A hand reached out to block the light, but it wasn’t his own. Dark skin stared back at him. It was Jefferson’s hand. From the corner of his eye he could see the posters on the wall again and the model airplane on the shelf.

 _“Am I seeing through Jefferson’s eyes?”_ he thought. Their bond was strong, but it had never reached that level of connection. Martin didn’t have long to contemplate the development. Dark swirling tendrils began to descend from the light, reaching for him, wrapping around his wrists, and Jefferson remained, unmoving, entranced by the entity that was enveloping him. Martin tried to call to him through the door. He tried to tell Gideon to get Sarah or Raymond — even Mr. Rory — to help, but no words would come. He could think of only one thing to do.

Martin rose, pressing his forehead against the door, and reached out in thought.

 _“Jefferson. Jefferson, can you hear me? I don’t know what’s happening, but you have to move.”_ The darkness swirled, like an eclipse blotting out the sun. _“Jefferson!”_

The light was gone.

_“JAX!”_

Their connection broke, snapped like a twig, and the weight of it lifted from his shoulders and his heart, sending Martin back a pace. The door opened and Jefferson lurched out, directly into Martin.

“Gray?” he said as he nearly collapsed into his arms, covered in a sheen of sweat. Martin clung to him. “I heard you,” he said.

“I’m glad,” Martin said, keeping a weary eye on the darkened room and steering Jefferson away from it. The danger, whatever it was, seemed to have passed, but Martin’s unease hadn’t.

It took several moments for Jefferson’s nerves to calm and his breath to come in something other than sharp, shuddering gasps, but when they did, Martin pulled himself away to look him over fully.

“What happened?”

Jefferson started to speak when a great guffawing laughter echoed down the hallway. Footsteps followed, and a panicked Jefferson grabbed Martin by the shoulder and pulled him into the darkened room before any of their shipmates reached the corridor junction. He closed the door, leaning his head against the cool metal and flipped on the small room’s light.

Martin was surprised to see a sparsely decorated room. There were no posters on the wall. No airplane on the shelf. Just a few pieces of machinery, schematics, grease-blotted rags and the spanner Martin was fairly certain he’d heard Raymond grumbling about growing legs earlier in the week. Jefferson grabbed a T-shirt from the back of a chair and mopped the sweat from his face and neck before tossing it into a pile.

“Sorry for being so weird out there,” he said, and for the first time since Martin had set his book aside, Jefferson seemed almost normal.

“It’s quite all right,” Martin said, “but I still don’t understand exactly what happened.”

“It was a dream.”

“That was a dream?”

“Yeah, more like a nightmare. You…you saw it?”

Martin nodded and watched Jefferson. Something about the way his eyebrows crinkled together and his arms crossed over his body, almost like a hug, made him seem almost like a little boy. Martin of course had no physical experience with children, but Jefferson’s expression stirred a deep memory of an event he’d never actually lived. He was sitting on the edge of a young girl’s bed, wiping a handkerchief across her tear-stained cheeks.

Gently, he lowered himself onto the edge of Jefferson’s mattress.

“Do you…do you want to talk about it?”

Jefferson nodded and took a couple shuffling steps before sitting next to Martin.

“You know how Rip said when we were done with everything, he’d take us back to where he left us? And it’d be like we never left?”

Martin nodded.

“Well that was a load of bull. I mean, Snart’s dead. He can’t go back like nothing’s happened!”

Martin’s brow furrowed at the exclamation.

“Was Mr. Snart in your dream?”

“No. No, but he proves my point.”

“I’m afraid I don’t follow.”

“Gray, we’re not the same people we were when we left. Even if it’s like no time passed for everyone we know, time’s still moved on for us. We’ve been out here for two years.”

“Yes, but how does this relate?”

Jefferson shook his head and rubbed at his eyes before continuing.

“In my dream,” he said, “I was back at home. In my old room with all my old stuff, and my mom was there just like she was when I left. Everything was like it was when I left. But I was different. I was old. Like, really, really old, and even though my mom was there…she didn’t really feel like my mom you know? Looking at her, she could have been my damn grandkid. I couldn’t relate to her, and she couldn’t relate to me, and we were both just sad.”

“I’m sure that must have been frustrating.”

“Yeah, but that’s not the worst part. I think…I think I was dying. I was dying, and I felt more alone than I’ve ever felt since…”

“Since what?”

Jefferson looked at him, and Martin could see the beginnings of unshed tears in his eyes.

“Well…since we became Firestorm.”

“Ah. I see.” Martin could feel a warmth welling behind his own eyes. It made sense, really. If Jefferson had been elderly in his dream, Martin would have to have been long dead, but in all this time, he’d never really considered the effect his presence — or his absence — would have on the young man who shared space in his brain. “I’m sorry ‘dream-me’ wasn’t there to help you.”

“That’s okay, Gray” Jefferson said with a smile and playful jab at Martin’s shoulder. “ ‘Real-you’ was here when it counted.”

Martin smiled at the affection and ducked his head.

“Glad to be of service,” he said before looking Jefferson in the eye again. “In all seriousness, though,” he continued, “I dragged you into this entirely against your will. If…if you ever want to go home, just say the word, and I promise, we’ll leave. There’s no reason for you to have to stay here until you’re old and — shall we say — gray, yourself.”

Jefferson gave a snorting laugh before dropping a hand on Martin’s shoulder and squeezing gently.

“I appreciate that,” he said. “But for now, I think we can still do a lot of good here.”

Martin nodded, but before he could speak, the waverider shuddered violently, with a loud creak, like it was exiting the temporal highway by way of punching a hole through space and time.

“What the hell?!” Jefferson said as he rose to his feet.

Sarah’s voice came over the ship’s systems.

“Everyone to the bridge! Gideon found another aberration, and this one’s a doozy.”

Jefferson spared another smile for Martin.

“See what I mean?” he said as they headed out the door.


End file.
